The Devil May Care
by Dark Satirist
Summary: Tag of sorts to 5x04. Sam said yes to Lucifer when he believed that Dean no longer cared about him. He said no when Dean was there for him. Four-part story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters. **

**Author's Note: Okay, so this story is dark and depressing for the first two parts, but the second two aren't nearly as gloomy. The first half of the story is why Sam said yes. The second half of the story is what is going to happen in 2011 (in the show) in Detroit when Dean has agreed to take Sam back as a hunting partner, proving that not all paths lead to the same end. **

**Read and review and there will be more interesting things to come!!**

**Summary: Tag of sorts to 5x04. Sam said yes to Lucifer when he believed that Dean no longer cared about him. He said no when Dean was there for him. Four-part story.**

**The Devil May Care**

**Chapter 1: Say Yes**

He pulled himself up over a pile of debris, letting out a loud groan as pain spiked through his body. He nearly blacked out again as the agony threatened to overcome him, but not before he saw the devastation that surrounded him. What few buildings were still standing were burning; the streets were broken and rearranged into small mountains; bodies littered the street, both demon and human; and there was a thick layer of smog that clung to the air, making it impossible for him to draw air into his oxygen-starved lungs.

He let out a huge cough, cursing mentally when wetness splattered his hand. He didn't have to look at it to know it was blood, that the piece of wood lodged firmly in his chest had struck a lung, that he was slowly bleeding to death internally. He didn't have a prayer. The thought caused him to make a sound that distantly resembled a laugh—he hadn't had a hope of a prayer in the longest time, perhaps since before he was born.

Footsteps, making no effort to be quiet, walked toward him. The ominous sound was the only sound heard for miles, save for the crackling of flames as they fed on the buildings and the occasional scream as somewhere, someone else that he was unable to save died.

He didn't have to look up to know who it was—and who it wasn't—and he couldn't help but feel as though someone had kicked him while he was down. Because he knew that it would never be his own personal hero ever again, the person that he wanted so desperately to be there, but had pointed out two years ago that they weren't ever going to be a team again and basically he could care less what happened to the other.

"Sam."

The gentle voice always scared him more than his father's angry voice ever had, more than Azazel ever had, and nearly more than his brother dying ever had. He couldn't bring himself to hate the person the voice because the person, or rather angel, sounded so sincere and so innocent. It was hard to believe that the angel was capable of so much destruction.

He couldn't make a sound, he could barely breathe, but he thought he got his _how many different ways do I have to say no way in Hell am I going to be your vessel_ look down pat. His brother would have been proud, had he been there.

It hit him heavily at that moment.

"Take a look around you, Sam," the angel said with a sympathetic tone as the devil voiced aloud what Sam had just realized. "Dean isn't here. He doesn't care about you anymore. You're _dying_ and your brother isn't here."

Sam desperately wanted to disagree, wanted to cling to the hope that his brother _was_ here, that he would appear out of thin air to save the day like he always did. But he knew that it was futile, that his brother wasn't coming, that he was going to die alone this time.

"You're not going to die," the angel said quietly.

_I rather die than allow you to use me,_ Sam thought loudly. He knew that the angel would be able to hear him as clearly as if he had spoken the words aloud and since he couldn't speak at the moment, it would have to do.

"The people you are so willing to die to save don't care how it ends," the angel murmured. "They just want it _to_ end. This horror, this destruction, this nightmare that is their sad lives at the moment… they want it to be _over_. They want to be saved from it. You can do that, Sam, if you just _say yes_. You can end their suffering. You can end everything if you say yes. You can be redeemed, Sam."

_No, I can't,_ Sam thought, because the only person he wanted redemption from no longer cared. That was obvious because he wasn't _there_.

"Your brother is foolish for not realizing the error of his ways," the angel said softly. "You have done nothing wrong."

_Except start the apocalypse, set you free, consort with a demon and then stab my brother in the back by choosing that bitch,_ Sam internally growled. _Yeah, that's definitely not doing anything wrong._

"You think that because that is what others have led you to believe," the angel pointed out. "Sam, I promised I would never trick you or lie to you. I'm the Devil, remember? I have to uphold my promises. You have done _nothing wrong_, except to say no to me. By doing that, you're letting innocent people _die_ in this foolish war between your race and mine. Say yes, Sam. End Hell on Earth."

Sam was starting to lose consciousness. Pain started to overwhelm him. He panicked, looking for the person he trusted most of all.

_Dean…_

"He's not coming, Sam. Only I can save you now."

He didn't want to die, not really. Sure he threatened to do it just to spite Lucifer, Dean, and the angels in their thrice damned plan to bring about paradise on earth, but he would never actually have come through with it. Dean would have brought him back and personally killed him for that. Provided Dean actually cared enough.

"SAM!"

Would it be ironic to use the phrase 'speak of the devil and the devil shall appear' in this case?

"Say yes, Sam," the angel said urgently. He sounded almost… frightened by Dean's sudden appearance.

_Dean hasn't cared about you in three **years**,_ a small voice in the back of Sam's head told him. _Why should you keep holding out for him? Don't you realize how many people are dying because of this stupid crusade of yours to die human? You **won't** die human because Lucifer here will keep bringing you back over and over again until you say yes. Just say yes. End Hell on Earth and end your own suffering._

Sam saw Dean's familiar form in the distance, struggling to make it up a pile of debris. He watched as his brother stopped dead at the sight in front of him. Sam could almost see the shocked and horrified look on his brother's face.

_He's horrified of you,_ the voice told him. _He doesn't care._

"Sam," the angel said. "Say yes."

Those green eyes that had once been more familiar to Sam than his own, the ones that gave away all of his brother's emotions, now belonged to a total stranger. He recognized the expression, the one he had seen so often when he had been with Ruby. The obvious feelings of mistrust and anger and maybe even a little hatred.

It dawned on him once again that Dean never wanted to be brothers again, that he didn't care. After all, it had been two years without a single phone call, without a single _hey, how's it going_ without anything. Dean had given up caring. So why should Sam care anymore? Why should he continue to allow himself to be hurt time and time again? Why should he allow himself to hurt people time and time again?

"You shouldn't," the angel murmured.

And in the end, it wasn't the promise of ending the world's suffering that made Sam choose to be Lucifer's vessel. It was that mistrustful look on Dean's face, the fact that it wasn't Sam but Castiel that stood behind him, the fact that Sam's world as he knew it was _over_. There would be no more Sam and Dean and Dean and Sam, no more brothers, and no more Winchesters. It was over.

Sam struggled to draw in a breath so he could state his reply.

"Yes," he whispered before everything went black.

Sam Winchester ceased to exist.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters. **

**Author's Note: This is Dean's point of view and yes, it is half the length of the other chapter, but I shall more than make up for it in the next. And this is probably a little out of character, but I'd like to believe that this would be the outcome if the first chapter had occurred in the show. Because I think that Dean does care, even when Sam doesn't think so and the older brother doesn't show it. **

**Read and review and there will be more interesting things to come!!**

**Summary: Tag of sorts to 5x04. Sam said yes to Lucifer when he believed that Dean no longer cared about him. He said no when Dean was there for him. Four-part story.**

**The Devil May Care**

**Chapter 2: Say Yes PII**

Dean knew what he would face when he climbed up the enormous pile of debris. He knew, but he still hoped that the outcome would be different.

There had been whispers in both the demonic and hunting worlds that Lucifer would be coming to Detroit. Why, only Dean could guess, but he had a pretty good feeling that it had something to do with his—with Sam. That was where Sam's cell phone's GPS had said he was last time Dean had thought to check (a day and a half ago) anyway.

Castiel was struggling up the pile of destroyed wood and shattered brick behind Dean. The latter paused before he reached the top to help the angel up. He refused to think of who he'd prefer beside him at that moment. They had parted ways, he told himself firmly. He shouldn't care about Sam anymore. But he did, because frankly, twenty-six years of caring was just too hard to turn off instantly.

"Dean," Castiel said softly.

Dean knew what the angel was going to say and shook his head. He didn't want to hear about how he should have let Sam come back to hunting with him again. He didn't want to hear how close Sam was to saying yes to Lucifer. He didn't want to believe the fact that Sam _could_ say yes.

"Look," Castiel said quietly pointing to two people a few yards away.

Dean turned his head and froze. There was one person lying on the ground with a long object sticking in his chest. Dean's heart stopped as he realized that this was Sam, which could only mean that the short blonde man standing over him was…

"Lucifer," Castiel whispered. "He's trying to get Sam as his vessel."

Suddenly, Sam turned to look directly at Dean. Dean knew that there had never been a more defeated, injured, and terrified expression on Sam's face then there was at that moment. And Dean also knew that there had never been a moment where he had been so far away from Sam, so unwilling to do anything to help him, so unwilling to save him.

The realization wasn't a shocking one—it had been two _years_ since they had last talked, since Dean had really ever thought about his brother, since Dean had told Sam that they were better off apart.. He still stood by that, but he couldn't bear to see his brother in pain.

"Sam, say yes," Lucifer said loud enough for Dean and Castiel to hear.

There was no question—Sam was going to say yes. Dean could see it in his brother's eyes.

_Fight, you idiot! Say no! You can't just say yes! That's giving up!_ Dean urged his hand going automatically to his gun. His instincts toward Sam that he had fought so hard to bury were springing to the surface. _Protect Sam. Save him from Lucifer._

"It's too late for that," Castiel said sorrowfully. "You had your chance, Dean. You could have saved your brother from this fate. He is going to become Lucifer's vessel."

_Screw that,_ Dean thought. _Sam's a fighter. He's too independent for his own good. That's why we parted ways._

"Everyone has a breaking point," Castiel murmured. "Even your brother."

_No!_ Dean wanted to shout in protest. But he knew it was too late by the way Sam's face looked, twisted into a pained and heartbroken grimace. He knew it was too late when he realized that Sam had been waiting for him to do _something_ and he had utterly failed to do anything at all because he had forgotten what it was like to be Sam's big brother.

An eerie silence fell over the city. Dean hadn't noticed how loud it was until there was no sound at all, except for Sam's ragged breathing and Dean's galloping heart.

"Dean, you can't interfere," Castiel said putting a staying hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean hadn't been conscious of the fact that he was already stumbling down the hill of debris, trying in vain to get to his brother, to save him from saying that three letter word. He wanted to take his brother back, forgive him for all of the things he had done, if only to save Sam from what Dean knew was going to happen to him in the long run. The picture of Raphael's vessel after the angel had abandoned him was just too clear, even though it had been two years since he had last seen it. He didn't want that happening to his brother. He didn't want to have to end up—oh _god_ no! Lucifer would become Sam. Dean wanted to kill Lucifer.

"SAM!" Dean screamed just as light blinded his vision and everything went white.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: This is the second to last chapter of this story. The next chapter will be told in Dean's point of view.**

**Author's Note 2: Though you can argue this until you're blue in the face, this story is not technically a death fic. Keep that in mind.**

**Read and review, please!**

**Devil May Care**

**Chapter 3: No Way In Hell... Either of 'Em.**

They weren't supposed to be separated. The plan was for them to stick together, to fight as one, like they had for numerous years before hand. But then again, it was a Winchester plan and nothing ever went according to a Winchester plan.

Sam didn't remember exactly how he got separated from Dean, but he was fairly certain that it involved a lot of low-level demons, an empty hallway, and miscommunication between the brothers. He also thought that it might have involved a few angels being killed, or at least sent back to Heaven, but again, he didn't know.

What he did know, however, was certainly as dark as the fact that he was separated from Dean. There was a man of medium height approaching him, who he was pretty certain was Lucifer's current vessel; Dean was nowhere in sight; Castiel was in Sam's line of vision, but he was unconscious, or as unconscious as an angel could get, and he had been taken out by Zachariah, which was cause for alarm. There was also a building that was on the verge of collapse, and if Sam couldn't find the ability to move in the next five minutes, he would more than likely be killed, which, given current circumstances, wasn't the best of ideas. Sure, Lucifer would bring him back, but then demand that Sam become his vessel, which Sam outright refused to do. He wouldn't do that to Dean or to anyone else he cared for, though admittedly, the list was only two or three people long after Dean.

Sam wasn't able to move, however, because of Lucifer. Whatever power the demons possessed to keep people in their places wouldn't work on Sam, but then again, Lucifer wasn't just any demon (although technically he wasn't a demon), he was _the _demon and his powers _did_ work on Sam. So Sam was frozen in place, more or less, with a building about to collapse on his head, no big brother in sight (though Sam desperately wanted his brother and wasn't afraid to admit it) and he was in Detroit. The last fact was random, but when Sam was facing certain death, he wasn't exactly going to keep his thoughts in a neat, orderly pattern. And besides, it wasn't that random—Detroit was the place, according to Dean's time-jump, where Sam gave up his humanity and became Lucifer's vessel. Not exactly great odds here, but then again, when had the Winchester odds ever been _good_?

"Sam."

Lucifer's voice could be heard loudly and clearly over the screams of horror and pain that were the soundtrack of the battle, though Sam swore he didn't see the fallen angel's mouth _move_. It was more like an internal kind of thing, which it probably was, Sam reflected.

"Lucifer," Sam said grimly.

He knew that Lucifer could hear him over the loud sirens and crackling of flames as they grew closer to the angel.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Sam," Lucifer said. "This horror, this destruction, it can all end."

"Why should I believe you?" Sam demanded. He wished that he could reach his gun that was in his back pocket. It may not have done anything against Lucifer, except make him angry, but it would have been nice to let go of the frustration he was feeling that angels didn't seem to understand the phrase _no way in Hell_. It was probably a little too literal for their liking, but that was beside the point.

"I have never lied to you," Lucifer pointed out. "I have always been honest with you."

"You have killed people that I care about!" Sam returned remembering a day a few months ago when Bobby was killed personally by Lucifer.

"The people that you care about will live on if you say yes," Lucifer said. "I can bring them back, Sam. Bobby, your father, Madison, Sarah, even Jess. If you say yes, then I can bring them back."

Sam stiffened as much as he was allowed in the demonic hold. It was one thing for Lucifer to threaten him and Dean—they were use to such threats, but to promise something such as to bring the people he loved the most _back_ from the dead? That struck way below the belt. For one, he knew that it wouldn't matter, that the people who he had loved would make the same choices and decisions that had ultimately led to their deaths in the first place. They wouldn't stand to see him as _Lucifer_ and he refused to let them. For another, Sam knew from experience that if a deal sounded too good to be true, like this one, it was.

"No," Sam said stubbornly, though his voice shook ever so slightly. He hated the fact that the people he loved were _dead_ because of him and he couldn't do anything to bring them back, save for ending the world, in which case, they'd only be brought back to die anyway. It hurt; because that was something he had been struggling to deal with all his life.

"SAM?"

Dean's loud frantic voice was heard faintly above screams and cries of terror. Sam felt a rush of relief when he heard it. Help was on the way. Dean was with an entire contingent of angels, or at least, he had been when he and Sam had separated. Lucifer would be captured and sentenced to whatever Hell (no pun intended) the angels deemed necessary. Sam was _safe_, Dean was safe from Michael, and the entire Apocalypse could be over.

But Sam forgot to add in the fact that this was Lucifer they were talking about and the angel had a few tricks up his sleeve, one being literally up his sleeve in the form of a piece of wood. Sam recognized it instantly and his heart beat that much faster as he remembered back to before Dean had gone to Hell and they had hunted the seven deadly sins. He knew what that did to demons and he had a feeling he knew what was about to happen.

"Dean will die if you don't say yes," Lucifer said softly positioning himself in the general direction of Dean's voice. "And you will be powerless to stop it."

Sam wasn't dense—he heard the silent _again_ and hated the angel all the more for it.

"Go to Hell," Sam said hoarsely, swallowing around the sudden lump of fear that was now stuck in his throat.

"Been there, done that," Lucifer said with a quiet hint of a smirk. It looked wrong on the fallen angel's face.

"Hey!"

The cavalry had arrived. Dean, in all his angered glory, was holding a shot gun in one hand and a large knife in the other. Lucifer smiled.

"Dean."

Dean's glare would have made any lesser angel or man take a step back. Or turn around and run away in fear.

"Lucifer."

If the glare hadn't done the man or angel in, the voice full of malice, spite, and sheer anger would have. Sam, who had heard that voice several times in his life shivered.

"Nice of you to join the party, Dean," Lucifer said. "Or should I say, Michael?"

"Stay the Hell away from Sam, you sick bastard," Dean growled. "He's not going to ever say yes to you and I'm never going to say yes to Michael."

"He will say yes," Lucifer said serenely. "And you will too. It's the only way to save your brother."

"I'll never say yes," Sam said defiantly struggling against the hold Lucifer had over him.

"Yes, you will," Lucifer said quietly. "There is nothing you can do to avoid it."

"Man, I thought that Yellow Eyes was arrogant!" Dean said getting Lucifer's attention back on him. "You really take the cake! Then again, you are the first, so I guess arrogance comes with the territory. All the more reason to kill you."

"You're not going to kill me," Lucifer said. "It's impossible. But however, I'm going to kill you."

"Like to see you try," Dean said. Sam wasn't the only one who heard the slight shimmer of fear in Dean's voice.

"You're scared that you're going back to Hell if you die," Lucifer said amiably. "I don't blame you, I'm scared to go back there too."

"I've already heard this speech before and I know how it ends," Dean said. "I know that you hate us and I know that you won't actually kill me."

"Things change," Lucifer said. "It was not predicted that you and Sam would join forces again. Now that you have, it makes it easier for me to get him to be my vessel. You two should really learn to let each other go."

Dean's face lost all of its color and Sam was pretty certain that his did too. Dean was going to die. And there was nothing Sam could do about it.

Before Dean or Sam could blink, Lucifer acted, but not in the way either Winchester brother expected. The angel merely disappeared and as he did so, the building collapsed on top of Sam.

"SAM!" Dean screamed.

Sam wished that he could say that everything went black, but it didn't. Instead, he found himself pinned to the ground in excruciating pain. He couldn't say what hurt worse—the long piece of jagged wood in his stomach or the cement blocks that landed on his leg, crushing it with their weight.

"D-n!" Sam grunted in warning as Lucifer appeared behind Dean. "W-watch o-t."

His warning was too quiet—Dean was struck in the back of the head by the butt of a gun that looked very familiar. It was the Colt. The realization struck Sam nearly as hard as the blocks of cement and wood.

"You will say yes to me," Lucifer said his voice still scary calm.

"N-Never," Sam said groaning as he tried to move out from underneath the cement blocks. Black spotted his vision, but Sam didn't care. He had to get to Dean before Lucifer killed him.

"Say yes and I'll spare your brother," Lucifer said raising the Colt and aiming it at an unconscious Dean's skull.

"Michael will just bring him back," Sam said. It was the first thing that popped into his mind and he instantly regretted it. But it was enough to stop Lucifer.

"I'll bring back everyone you love," the angel offered again. "Just say yes, Sam."

"No," Sam said stubbornly putting a hand on his stomach, trying to staunch the blood loss. He used the other hand to pull himself toward Dean.

"It was your fault that they died, Sam," Lucifer said. "You can make that right."

Sam was shaking, whether from blood loss, pain, or anger he wasn't certain.

"_No_," he said coughing. Blood splattered the ground.

"Say yes," Lucifer said his voice growing dark.

"Why?" Sam got out. "Why should I say yes to you?"

"To end the apocalypse," Lucifer said. "To end Hell on Earth and bring about paradise."

"You're talking about killing six billion people," Sam whispered. "No."

"I will spare everyone if you say yes. Say no and they all die," Lucifer said.

"They'll die anyway if I say yes to you," Sam said placing a hand on Dean. There was a steady heartbeat underneath his fingers, which meant that his brother was just knocked out. That was good.

"Why are you fighting so hard for humanity?" Lucifer wanted to know. "Why are you fighting so hard? All you humans have ever done is lie, cheat, steal, and kill each other."

"And what have you demons done?" Sam retorted squeezing Dean's hand. Dean's knee-jerk reaction was to squeeze back.

"The demons are what humans used to be," Lucifer said. "I have no wish for them to rule the Earth. Answer the question."

"We may be flawed," he rasped gaining strength from his brother's reaction. "But we don't deserve to die. Everyone has done something bad in their life, yes, but they fight to make it right. It's part of what being human is."

"You're all miserable mud-monkeys," Lucifer said.

"We're human," Sam said biting back a groan when the piece of wood shifted in his stomach and grated against one of his ribs. "We're bound to be miserable. We're mortal. But that doesn't mean none of us are worthy of living. We fight, we hate, we lust, and we kill, but we also love, are loyal, and work our damndest to have meaning in our lives."

Dean's eyes opened.

"Sam?" he whispered.

Sam shook his head.

"We're not perfect," he continued. "But that's what's worth fighting for. If we were perfect, then we'd be arrogant dicks like you. We have the right to make the mistakes we make and we have the right to fix them. You, on the other hand, don't have the right to come in and mess everything up. You're acting like a spoiled brat."

"Am I?" Lucifer questioned. He had all the subtlety of a blunt ax when it came to masking his malice. Sam couldn't bring himself to care—he was fairly certain that he was going to die in this encounter any way.

"Yes," Sam said frankly. "You think that you're better than everyone else. Well, tough, you're not. God made us in His image so you can just get over it."

He was so tired. He barely had the strength to hold his eyes open. He didn't see Lucifer's look of pure outrage, nor did he see Dean grabbing for the Colt. He heard most of it, though, including the final gunshot, but he didn't see who the winner was. He faded into darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Thanks to all those that have read and reviewed the story! I hope you all have enjoyed the ride as much as I have.**

**Read and review, please!**

**The Devil May Care**

**Chapter 4: Shoot the Devil**

Dean really hated concussions. They always made him dizzy, disoriented, and a couple of other words that started with D and meant that he felt like crap that only Sam could say.

Sam. Another reason why Dean hated concussions so much. Generally when Dean got a concussion, Sam ended up near death and in so much trouble that it would make a serial killer's sentence look like Disney World.

The most recent concussion Dean received was no exception to either of those rules. Sam was now in a state of unconsciousness with blood pouring out of his stomach and his leg bent at an awkward angle and Dean had no idea where the Hell he was. But Dean did know that he had just shot the devil. And survived.

Rewind. Or at least, Dean thought, attempt to. Given the fact that his head felt like someone was splitting it in two, that might be kind of hard.

Dean recalled that he and Sam had split up by accident when there was a huge rush of demons that attacked all at once. He remembered trying to go after Sam, but getting caught in a heavy crossfire between the demons and a couple of angels gone bad. Zachariah had killed Ellen and Jo. Dean vividly remembered that. He also vividly remembered trying to get to Sam, who seemed to be frozen in place with a man that looked like a breath of wind would knock him over.

Turned out that the latter was Lucifer. Whoops. Of all the times to put his foot in his mouth, literally speaking, Dean just had to do that. Of course, he recovered gracefully, as always, in time to watch a building fall on Sam's head and get knocked out by the Devil, which explained the concussion.

Things were a little fuzzy after that. He vaguely remembered Sam saying something that was about the equivalent of telling Lucifer to fuck off, only in much politer terms because Sam was more polite than any person Dean had ever met, and then Sam doing a semi-face plant on the ground.

Then Dean remembered everything with perfect clarity, because it happened five minutes beforehand. He remembered tackling Lucifer like a football player and getting the gun free of the fallen angel's hands. He also remembered staring at it stupidly for a full second and a half because it was the Colt.

Dean probably had said something equally as stupid, but he didn't really remember that part of it. He did, however, remember aiming the gun at Lucifer's forehead and firing. He remembered an unearthly scream, which didn't come from Lucifer's vessel, but from Sam. Dean had spun around to find Sam convulsing on the ground.

"SAM!" he had screamed. Dean thought that maybe he screamed his brother's name like a girl way too many times in his life, but then, this was Sam he was thinking about. Sam was always getting into near death experiences.

It turned out that Dean hadn't killed the Devil, just his current vessel and Lucifer was now trying to possess Sam without Sam's permission.

"Dean!" Sam cried out in pain.

Dean did the only thing he could think of to do—grab his little brother's hand. He was unprepared for the sudden wave of anguish and pain that overcame him as he did so. He nearly let go of Sam's hand, but knew that if he did so, Sam would be lost to him forever.

So Dean grit his teeth together and tried to focus on something other than the blinding pain coming from Sam. He concentrated on his happiest memories, all of which contained Sam. He thought about the day that Sam had been brought home from the hospital when he was born. He thought about Sam's first steps across the grungy hotel room floor in Blue Earth, Minnesota. Dean remembered Sam's first day of kindergarten better than he remembered his own. Sam had been terrified of going to school. The thought made Dean smile—it was so different than the geeky brother Dean knew and loved now. He remembered Sam's first hunt and how it ended badly, but how it had been Sam that had saved Dean from the werewolf that night and not John. He remembered Sam's first crush, a cute little redhead by the name of Mariah Smalls and he even remembered Sam's first kiss because Dean had walked in on it by pure accident. He still occasionally teased Sam about it.

_Your brother is not human. Let him go._

The powerful voice was scary as it resonated from Sam's mind into Dean's. Dean knew instantly who it belonged to and hated it all the more.

_My brother is human, you lying bastard. _

He remembered the day Sam got accepted into Stanford with a full ride scholarship. Dean remembered how proud he had been of his brother and how proud John had been, even if it meant that he was going to lose Sam. Dean remembered clearly the fight the two had had the night before the epic blowout between John and Sam. Dean remembered the day he first visited Sam at Stanford and then the first night he met Jess. He remembered all the pain and agony that had happened afterwards quite clearly.

_Sam is _mine_, Dean. He is no longer yours. He is no longer Sam._

_You're wrong,_ Dean thought. _Sam is still here._

It was true—Sam was still there, just in agony and buried underneath Lucifer's presence. But Dean could still feel his brother, the geeky, innocent version of Sam and the darker, more suicidal version.

_Sam, if you're there, say something,_ Dean thought.

_He's not here!_ Lucifer shouted. Dean winced and almost let go of Sam. But he didn't and he heard the faint cry for help coming from his brother.

_Let him go, you bastard,_ Dean growled. _Let him go._

Dean wasn't aware of his surroundings—he didn't see Castiel battling against Zachariah, nor did he see Anna appear behind Zachariah and kill the angel. But he was aware of Lucifer's sudden disappearance and Sam's sudden stillness.

"SAM!" Dean shouted searching wildly for a pulse. There was none to be found.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, but Dean shook it off. Sam couldn't be dead. It was impossible! Sam, the brother he had fought so hard to protect from all of this. Sam, the one who had risked his life to save Dean's on numerous occasions. The one that had killed Lilith to avenge Dean's death couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible.

"Dean, come here," Anna said softly. When Dean still resisted she pulled gently on his arm. "Come."

"NO!" Dean shouted feeling himself being pulled away anyway. "SAM!"

Anna pressed two fingers two his forehead and everything went black.

* * *

Dean woke sometime later with a pounding headache and the urge to throw up. He didn't notice the beeping heart monitor or the IV in his hand until he tried to get out of bed and the machines started going wild.

The hospital room door burst open to reveal an agitated looking nurse who shot him a death glare.

"Sir, you need to stay in bed," she said firmly.

"My brother, Sam," Dean tried to protest but the ache in his head grew too much and he allowed the woman to push him back into bed.

"Sam is going to be okay," the nurse said. "He just got out of surgery. I'll take you to see him in a little while, after you get some rest."

_Sam was alive._

The thought made Dean nearly pass out in relief and he wasn't so certain that he didn't. The next time he opened his eyes, Anna was there in place of the nurse and she had a very grave look about her. Then again, she was an angel and she always had a very grave look on her face.

"Sam?" Dean started to ask but Anna held up her hand.

"I'm not sure what all happened between you, Sam, and Lucifer," she said. "But I do know that whatever did occur sent Lucifer back behind his seals, if not caused him to die. We're not sure, but Lucifer is no longer walking the Earth."

Dean's jaw fell open and he struggled to close it so he could talk. It didn't work out too well.

"Sam nearly died because of Lucifer," Anna continued. "Not just because of his injuries, which were pretty bad by themselves, but because Lucifer attempted to possess him without permission. It was pretty horrible. You didn't see Sam after what happened—we were all certain that he was dead. But his heart was still beating, barely. Castiel was the one that discovered it and we brought you both here to St. Paul's Medical Center. Sam is in recovery right now and is going to be just fine with a lot of rest and recovery."

"When can I see him?" Dean asked quietly.

"Provided you don't faint when you stand up, you can go right now," Anna said. "You have a nasty concussion."

Dean ignored the last comment and carefully pulled himself out of bed. He was pleased to find that his head didn't hurt. Much.

"Where's my brother?" he demanded.

"Room 666," Anna said. Dean shot her an incredulous look. "Seriously. Castiel is with him right now."

The way she said that made Dean nervous, like Sam didn't have much time left. But she had just said he was going to be fine. So what was going on?

"Lead the way, fearless leader," he said.

Anna rolled her eyes before brushing past him and walking out the door. Dean followed quickly, wanting to see Sam with his own eyes and make sure his brother was okay.

Sure enough, Sam was in room 666. Dean barely held down the sarcastic comments when he saw the room number. He was fairly certain that Anna heard his thoughts anyway from the annoyed look she shot him before she pushed open the door.

Dean's first thought was that Castiel looked _exhausted_. His second was to wonder if angels ever got exhausted. His third was _oh shit, is that Sam in the hospital bed?_

The person in the hospital bed was pale, with matted brown hair and dark circles that stood out too clearly on his white face. The person had a thick white cast encasing his left leg and a bandage wrapped around the hand that Dean had held onto for dear life when Lucifer had tried to possess Sam.

"Sam," Dean whispered going weak at the knees. "Is he--?"

"He's alive," Castiel said gravely. "He's sleeping right now."

Dean walked slowly over to the hospital bed and slid his hand underneath Sam's. He felt the strong, steady heartbeat and sighed in relief. He sat down on one of the hospital chairs and rested his chin on the edge of the bed.

"You're both lucky to be alive," Castiel told him. "Lucifer not only nearly killed Sam with his possession attempt, but he also nearly killed you. What you did was stupid and risky."

"It worked, didn't it?" Dean asked with a hint of a smirk. "Lucifer's dead and Sam's going to be okay."

"Yes, but you nearly destroyed yourselves in the process," Castiel said. "You could have brought the entire world to an end with your actions, Dean."

"Lucky thing it worked, now isn't it?" Dean asked not wanting to think about what would have happened if Sam hadn't been strong enough to fight off Lucifer. What had happened was scary enough on its own.

Castiel muttered a word that sounded distinctly like _idjits_, which made Dean smile sadly.

"Castiel, the other angels wish to converse with you," Anna said. "They're meeting in Deerbourne."

"What's happening?" Dean asked. Lucifer was gone—the war was over, wasn't it?

"Zachariah was killed," Castiel said looking at Anna in a look that seemed distinctly guilty. "He was on Lucifer's side the entire time and none of us realized it. I am now leader of the angels."

Dean's jaw hit the floor as he stared at the two angels in shock.

"De?"

Sam's quiet voice drew Dean's attention away from the two angels to his brother. Sam's hazel eyes were open in mere slits and he looked like he was in an enormous amount of pain, but he was _alive_ and _Sam_.

"Sammy," Dean whispered wrapping one of his arms around Sam's shoulders in a bear hug.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam murmured his eyes falling close again.

"I'm good, Sammy," Dean said with a smile tugging at his lips. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up, okay?"

"Love you, Dean," Sam mumbled his eyes firmly shut.

"I love you too, Sam," Dean said squeezing his brother's hand gently. He smiled again when Sam returned the gesture.

The apocalypse was over. The Winchester brothers had won. No one was certain what happened to Lucifer, only that he was gone and the world hadn't ended. God was found on the corner of First and Amistad and was restored as the rightful ruler of Heaven.

Sam went on to make a full recovery from his encounter with Lucifer. He and Dean went back to hunting things such as poltergeists and spirits. There were no more encounters with demons ever again.

Dean and Sam lived a long and happy life, dying at the ripe old age of 89 and 85 when their house caught fire and they didn't get out in time. They hunted until they were in their fifties and then retired, returning to their hometown of Lawrence, Kansas to live out the rest of their life.

_Finis_


End file.
